Room 422, The Arms Hotel, Friday morning [4/11]

[montecito_east]

Mary was a bit sheepish over falling asleep on Mike's couch last night. But a good night's sleep had worked wonders for her, and then Mike insisted on cooking her a homemade breakfast before sending her off to talk to George Michael about what was bothering her

Comments

[george_m_bluth]

George Michael managed to make it through the front door last night, then he fell flat on his face.

And there he still was.

[montecito_east]

Which certainly surprised Mary when she walked through the door.

"Oh my goodness!" she gasped, getting down on the floor and checking to make sure that he still had a pulse.

[george_m_bluth]

He had a pulse, but he reeked of alcohol. And cigarette smoke. He tried to smoke and coughed up a lung. For some reason his shirt was unbuttoned half-way, like he tried to get undressed. A shoe was missing too.

He mumbled something or other about something or other that made entirely no sense whatsoever.

[montecito_east]

"You poor thing. I'm gone for one night and you get into who knows what kind of trouble," said Mary. "Come on, sweetie. Let's get you to bed. Or maybe in the shower," she added, catching a whiff of cigarette smoke.